Le Parchemin de la Bête
by JakunenNeesan
Summary: "The scroll of the beast..." Brittany murmured, her finger trailing the slight curling edges of the old yellowed document. Rated T.


This is my very first Beauty & the Beast fanfic. I was inspired by Converse r Life's _Just a Sonata Away_, so I've decided to do something similar.

I'm considering whether to continue this or not though. I don't want to write an entire story, and no one reads it-that would be a huge waste of time on my part. So review! If enough people are interested, I will continue this story. I already have an outline in my head.

**. . .**

"Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn't have to wait so long..."

The old Beach Boys song rang throughout the small diner semi-softly. It was an unusually busy Tuesday night. Normally there would be about three or four customers, occasionally five on a Friday night. The customers were cramped in the little pink coloured booths, some nearly spilling over the edges.

It was that unfortunate night where Brittany Miller was the only waitress that was on shift.

"Waitress!" A middle-aged balding customer shouted over the chatter. "I need more coffee!"

"Coming!" Brittany replied over her shoulder as she placed a plate of steaming French toast in front an eager five year-old. She hurried behind the counter near the back of the diner to grab a pot of coffee.

"Here you go," Brittany said with a plastered on smile as she poured the coffee into the customer's white porcelain cup. "Are you enjoying your meal?"

"It could be better," The middle-aged man huffed. "The edges of my toast are burnt, the salad is bland as hell, and I may be mistaken, but I think the cutlery has white splotches all over them."

Brittany flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry!" She picked up the cutlery carefully and quickly, and then put them in the pocket of her apron. "I will bring you a new knife and fork soon." She began to turn away.

"Hey, what about the sala-"

"Waitress!"

"Sorry, I'll be a minute." Brittany mumbled and scurried over to the other side of the diner, to a booth near one of the windows, placing the coffee pot back as she went.

This customer was a younger woman around her late thirties. She wore a sun hat, sunglasses, and a thick swab of lipstick. She picked up a napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth with it carefully.

"May I help you?" Brittany inquired, bringing out a pocket sized notepad and a pen out of her pale blue breast pocket.

"You certainly can," The woman replied in short clipped tones. "Do you have anything on this menu that does not have excessive amounts of MSG* in it?" The woman pushed aside the menu for the waitress to see.

Brittany glanced at the menu; burgers, fries, poutine, French toast, bacon, salad, eggs, coffee, soft drinks, water, cakes, pie...

"We do have water, that's about the only thing." Brittany said with a slight shrug.

"Ugh, and you call yourselves a restaurant..." The woman replied, picking up her purse and getting out of the booth.

"Technically it's a diner, that's what diner's usually serve." Brittany countered. The woman glanced over her shoulder with a sneer, and walked out of the diner, the bell tingling over the door as she opened it.

The waitress puffed a small amount of air that slightly ruffled her bangs. She turned to go to the counter, leaning over to pick up a new knife and fork, and then deposited the dirty ones in a different bin.

As she placed the cutlery on the first customer's table. She noticed he was looking very upset.

"Sir?" She asked.

"Where's my salad?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Give me a minute." Brittany picked up the plate, a few pieces of the salad falling to the floor. "I'll be right back."

"Right."

Brittany scurried behind the counter for the third time in two minutes. She stood in front of the small window that revealed the messy kitchen behind it.

"Sal, I need a new macaroni salad, make sure to spice it up a little more." She hollered, placing the bland salad on the ledge.

Sal, picked up the dish and placed it inside the kitchen somewhere. "Another picky customer?" He commented. "Britt, if I add anymore spice, it would swell the customers' tongues."

"Their orders, not mine." Brittany shrugged.

Sal wiped the grease off his chubby hands and got to work. "I'll betcha five bucks that guy isn't gonna stay around for another ten minutes."

"Oh, you're funny." The waitress crossed her arms and tapped her foot teasingly."It's not my fault that Di and Kirsten decided not to show up tonight."

"I betcha that they've smelt this coming," Sal chuckled as he twirled a dish dangerously and started piling on the salad. "Those prissy cats can smell "work" a mile away."

Brittany chuckled herself, tucking a few stray strands back into her messily tied bun. Oh, how she disliked having sparse hairs around her hairline.

"You never know," she countered. "They may have better things to do, like _study_."

Sal snorted, tapping away some spice onto the dish. "A foreign concept to those blondes." He added another tap for good measure. "Speaking of which, have you found out yet?"

"About Trinity Western University? Yeah, a nice thick envelope came from them in the mail this morning."

"And...?" Sal asked. "C'mon, spill!"

"I got in." Brittany smiled tentatively.

"You say like that's a bad thing, you've always wanted to go to TWU!"

"I have, I mean-I do, but," Brittany's smiled faltered. "The tuition is nearly three-thousand dollars."

Sal gave a low whistle. "Wow, that's quite a bit of dough. How are you going to rack that up?"

Brittany ruffled her hand though her bangs then let them fall. "I don't know. The minimum deposit has to be made by June."

"That's two weeks girl!"

"I know-"

"Waitress!"

"Gotta go." Brittany said, and turned to where she heard the call.

It was the customers that ordered the French toast for their five year-old. What was once a delicately arranged dish was now a big sticky, sugary mess. Gobs of syrup clung to the boy's hair and t-shirt. His mouth showing pure contentment.

"Oh, dear. Hold still hon," Brittany shook out a rag that was partially in the waistband of her black pants and wiped the little boy's face gingerly. Then she proceeded to wipe the table down.

"Would you like a new dish?" Brittany asked, tucking the rag in her apron pocket.

"No, that's quite alright." The boy's mother reassured. "I'll just give him some of my meal."

"Okay."

"Britt, salad's ready!" Sal hollered, placing the new dish on the serving ledge.

Brittany went to pick up the freshly spiced salad, carefully trying not to spill, she placed it timidly on the middle-aged man's table.

"About time." He grumbled.

"I'm so sorry about the wait. As you can see, it's pretty busy here."

The customer pursed his lips as he took a forkful of the macaroni salad. After a second, his eyes started to tear up. "Water, get me water!" He gasped.

Brittany took a sharp intake of breath and hurried back to Sal.

"Sal, I need a glass of water!" She cried.

"Yeah, you need a break."

"No, not for me," The waitress waved her hands. "For him!" She jerked her thumb over her shoulder to the customer, whose face was starting to turn red.

"Oh...oh!" Sal exclaimed, hurrying to fill a glass. "Here!"

"Thanks!" Brittany scurried back over to the customer and gave him the glass. He gulped it all too eagerly.

"Wha-what kind of pl-place is this?" He sputtered angrily. He threw the glass onto the floor, causing it to shatter. "Your boss is going to hear from me!" He adjusted the collar of his black coat and stormed out the door.

Brittany groaned inwardly, kneeling down to pick up the pieces carefully.

"That's the third glass this evening," she muttered sadly.

The brunette carried the pieces carefully to a nearby garbage can and deposited them with a clash. She then proceeded to pick up the remains of the salad and toast and brought them back to the ledge for Sal to deposit, and then wash the plates.

"Pay up." Sal said with a smirk, grabbing the dishes.

"Huh?" The waitress questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.

"I betted you five bucks that customer wouldn't stick around for another ten minutes, and guess what-I was right!" Sal stuck his hand through the window, wiggling his chubby fingers greedily.

Brittany wrinkled her nose. "I never agreed to that bet."

Sal pulled his hand back as he proceeded to dump the salad and toast into the garbage can.

Something was off. Brittany took a tentative sniff of the air surrounding her, leaning towards the window.

"Sal, is something burning?"

Sal looked up, sniffing the air. His eyes widened as he dropped the dishes in the sink. "Oh crap, my spinach puffs!" He cried, dashing towards the oven.

Brittany tried to choke back a laugh, but failed. "_Spinach puffs_? What are those?"

"They're my supper," The chubby fry cook said defiantly. "Luckily I saved them in time."

Brittany snorted, covering her mouth. A few more strands of hair fell from her bun from the jerky movements. Sighing, she tucked them away for the hundredth time that evening.

"Hey look, its diner girl!" A voice rang out from behind.

The "diner girl' froze, her hand still in mid-air. She recognized that voice anywhere. That stupid, obnoxious voice that belonged to no other than Ethan Douchin, or as Brittany put it, Ethan Douche Bag. The most popular senior and student in her high school. He was notorious for picking on freshman and had a rep that labelled him as a "playboy."

Brittany turned slowly, putting on a face that was impossible to read. There was only one way to deal with people like these. To show them, that they can't "one-up" you.

Walking over to the booth where Ethan and his posse sat, the waitress subconsciously took out her notepad and pen, she poised her pen, ready to write down what they wanted and leave.

"How may I help you this evening?" Brittany said almost emotionlessly.

"Hmmm," Ethan pondered, slowly reading over the menu. He was taking his sweet time in hopes of getting the diner girl annoyed.

Normally this wouldn't bother Brittany, but as tonight was unnaturally busy, she couldn't afford the patience.

"Would you like a few minutes?" Brittany questioned.

"No, no. I'll have a coke and some poutine." Ethan said slowly. "What about you girls?"

Brittany shifted her gaze to Ethan's posse. Her hand gripped the pen so hard it was in danger of snapping. Sitting only inches away were Di and Kirsten, their hair soaked with hairspray and wearing very tight tank tops. Thankfully the table covered the rest, who knows what they were wearing over their legs, if anything at all.

"And you?" Brittany said through clenched teeth.

"We'll have water," Kirsten replied, examining her hot pink gel nails.

"Will that be everything?"

Kirsten gave a high-pitched, squeaky laugh. "You actually think that we're going to eat any of this junk you serve here?"

Brittany pointed her pen towards Ethan. "He is."

"We've got a waistline to keep," Di said, wrinkling her nose. "Unlike _someone_ standing in front of us."

The group of three laughed, like annoying hyenas. Brittany looked down. Her waist wasn't _that_ huge. Sure, it wasn't model thin, but it wasn't overly large either.

"At least I can fit into my pants," Brittany countered a little shakily. "You probably need to have pins to keep yours from falling. It's too bad they don't have size negative tens."

The laughter stopped abruptly. Di and Kirsten shot massive daggers towards the diner girl, with thoughts of death in their heads. Anyone claiming that their bodies weren't perfect, deserved to be hung from the highest tree.

Brittany spun on her heels with her back facing them, and went to fill their orders.

The rest of the evening went by slowly and painfully. At long last, Brittany was able to punch out before flicking off the lights. "Goodnight, Sal." She called.

"Goodnight, Britt." Sal called back. "Stay under the streetlights."

"Will do." She replied, adjusting her denim jacket and going out the door.

It was a slow walk home. Brittany felt all of the coffee she had earlier to gain energy, beginning to wear off. It was another several blocks until she reached her apartment, so she decided to take a quick shortcut-walking through a dark, narrow alley.

The brunette didn't realize how really dark it was, until she couldn't see more than two feet or so in front of her.

Wrapping her denim jacket closer around her body, Brittany hurried as fast as she could to make it through the alley.

But she wasn't fast enough.

**. . .**

Uh-oh, what happened? Review and maybe, just maybe, there will be a chapter two. ;)

* MSG: A food additive, it's what makes you crave fast food like McDonald's or KFC.

~ JakunenNeesan


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